


My Friends Call Me Chan

by SchelleBelleWrites



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Demons, Honestly not that graphic but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 23:38:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13512159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SchelleBelleWrites/pseuds/SchelleBelleWrites
Summary: Jeonghan is in a lot of trouble.





	My Friends Call Me Chan

Jeonghan let out a stifled groan as he was slammed to the ground. He immediately attempted to stand but was once again forced down, this time by a heavy foot to his back.

"There is no way I am letting you get away. I already lost one meal today when your friend Mingyu weaseled his way out," there was humored laced in his words, as if the man didn't have a single care in the world. Han felt a rough hand on his shoulder and was suddenly laying on his back in the dark alleyway. The man had a foot on either side of Jeonghan's waist and slowly lowered himself down until he was nearly sitting on Jeonghan's chest. It was the first time Han had been able to see the man clearly and he was suddenly wondering if it was right to call this person a man at all. He could have been no older that twenty and even that was a stretch. He wore torn black jeans, a red hoodie, and a black jacket with random writing on it. His hair was dark brown, hanging lazily across his forehead with a slight part above his right eye. Perhaps it was because of the dim lighting of the alleyway but Jeonghan could have sworn that his irises were jet black. "Do I look that good? You're about to die and yet you still find the time to check me out."

Jeonghan opened his mouth to protest, "That's not-" His words were cut short as a hand covered his mouth. Jeonghan knew that if he wanted to survive, he had to kill this man. Jeonghan had never been a violent person, he didn't even like wrestling with his siblings. He only carried a pocket knife because Mingyu insisted on it.

Before Jeonghan had even made a decision on what to do, his hand was wrapped around the knife in his front pocket. The world seemed to pause around them as the knife was then plunged into the strangers chest. The man's breathing grew heavy and his eyes closed as his head dropped. Only a moment had passed when the stranger began chuckling, a smirk spreading across his lips. Without looking up, he slowly removed the knife from his chest and tossed it aside. Jeonghan felt the blood drip onto his chest but he couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. His pocket knife may not have been particularly large but no human should have been able to withstand that much pain without so much as a whimper. Almost immediately, the blood stopped falling and Jeonghan could see through the hole in the man's hoodie that the wound was closing itself.

"What are you?" Jeonghan whispered, terrified of any answer the man could give him.

The man sighed slightly, "Well, most humans call me a demon , but my friends call me Chan."

**Author's Note:**

> Welp that was a short story that probably should've never been written.


End file.
